Defensive Tactics
by RhyannD
Summary: An away mission gone bad... lots of P/C.   A nod to Oparu & ardavenport.   If I had anything to do with the characters or their Universe, would I be posting here?  just housekeeping-editing syntax, no update.
1. Chapter 1

Pain.

At first it was all encompassing. Slowly it coalesced to be contained within the confines of a skull. Thick bone restraining the throbbing, pulsing waves which seemed to bounce against the captivity only to ricochet and magnify.

Gradually other senses intruded. Each seemed to bring another wave of agony. The smell of burnt flesh and fabric, of dust, hung in the air. Nausea swam up.

She was hot and cold simultaneously. Burning seemed to encompass her head and chest and her right side. Her left side was cold. A drop of cold sweat dripped down her spine.

She felt, rather than heard, a voice. Then heard another responding. Terse words, but she could not yet make out what they were saying. The voice she felt came from under her right cheek. Familiar fabric scratched at her face, which was hot and hypersensitive.

She felt herself floating in a gentle rhythm which seemed to soothe the demons inside her head. Then the rumble beneath her again, and she realized she was rising and falling with breath underneath her.

She fought to rise to the surface. It was like fighting through thick, viscous gel. She could not get enough air, could not connect thoughts to actions. She could not remember...

Her eyes refused to obey her command to open. When she tried to order her thoughts, an overwhelming sense of panic climbed from her stomach, following the nausea up her throat.

She did not even know why, she just knew she had to move, to do something. She had to do something NOW...

With a jerk, she fought to return fully to consciousness. She tried to speak, a warning... her own voice echoed in her ears, the pain in her head closing her eyes and blocking sound from reaching her for a moment.

"Shh... shh, shh..." She felt herself being shifted. "It's ok."

Relief flooded her at his voice.

"Jea... " she mumbled.

"Shh... shh... " He gently hissed soft, short, soothing sounds. "Relax, don't fight it."

"What... wha... " She broke off into a moan. She had made the mistake of trying to open her eyes to see him. A sense of darkness and stone, a glimpse of his uniform stabbed into her brain before she brought her lids back together to block the light-induced pain.

She felt a large hand sweep across her brow. Another wave of inexplicable relief washed through her.

"You've caught the worst of a disruptor blast set on maximum stun." This time the words rumbling beneath her cheek were interpreted by her tortured mind. "Just try to relax. It's worse if you fight it."

At the moment she could not even argue with him. She knew that somewhere in the chaos inside her skull she held the knowledge to explain what had happened to her, and her physical response... but it was as far out of her reach as the recent past. All she knew was they were not in sickbay, and there was no help here in the form of a hypospray.

She tried to focus beyond the pain in her head. She only managed to ascertain that the rest of her ached almost as much. Muscles felt like she had run a marathon. Breathing was an effort.

She stopped fighting the pain and let it float around her. Imagined herself being carried along by it, rather than pushing against it. It lessened somewhat.

More conversation that she could not discern. She was able to identify the other voice as Will Riker. A spark of tension had the pain spiking-Deanna had been with them... She tried to raise her arm to the chest she leaned against.

"Deanna..." it came out just a whisper.

"She's fine. Just relax. Try to sleep a bit. It helps"

She could identify the smell of him now, above the acrid odors of burnt things and dust. Starch and soap and Jean-Luc. She let the pain wash over her again, and through it felt his warmth under the uniform against her cheek. The throbbing in her own head subsided enough to hear his heartbeat. Again, she had the impression she was floating, rising and falling on the waves of his breathing...

Unsure how long she had been out, she awoke a second time. Pain still wanted to push its way through the thick plates protecting her grey matter. But the chaos had settled somewhat.

Cautiously she opened her eyes a slit. It was dark. She had a sense of a different darkness beyond. She was cradled against him still. One arm held her to him. The other was also wrapped around her, but she felt his hand stroking her hair.

"Welcome back." His voice was soft. She thought she heard the hint of a smile. She began to shift so she could see his face, but the first attempt at movement had her breath escaping in a gasp.

"Easy." His voice was calm. Calmer than it should be, given their circumstances.

Circumstances which she was not entirely sure of, but she knew she would be in sickbay if she could be. It felt, and smelt, like they were on the ground. Jean-Luc rested against a wall of sorts. She had the impression they were in a cave.

Slowly, so as not to anger her brain, she closed her eyes again to let her thoughts drift to what she could remember. Orellian 3. That was the planet. They were there... Hurt drifted to the forefront of her consciousness, blocking her efforts to remember.

She must have frowned, she felt his hand move from her hair. It brushed against her forehead, his thumb soothing the furrows on her brow. It continued down, to cup her cheek.

She risked opening her eyes again. He had brought his face down, nearer to hers. He seemed to be trying to assess her. She could not see his eyes, but she could recognize concern in his features.

Since trying to remember seemed to hurt, she let herself float in the present. She was cradled against Jean-Luc. He was sitting on the floor, propped against the side of the cave. She was draped across his lap, her upper body supported by his arms, held against his chest. One strong hand still caressed her cheek.

One thing in all of this felt good. Beyond good. The way it was supposed to be.

The urgency that she had awakened with began to prod at her spongy awareness. Orellian 3... the away team... there had been a terrorist attack against the government officials hosting them... That was as far as she got.

Knowing better now than to move, she tried her voice again. "Where?"

His hand resumed stroking her hair. She barely restrained the urge to push into his hand and purr like a kitten. His touch did seem to help to lessen the ache just a bit...

"We're in a cave just outside of the settlement. We have to wait for the next transporter window." He gently shifted her, checking the chrono on his wrist. "Another five hours yet." She heard frustration in his voice.

"Who else is here?" Her voice was a little stronger. The agonizing pressure in her head was distracting, but her perplexity with their circumstances was more distracting. "Will and Deanna have gone out scouting." Forestalling her next question he quickly went on, "They're both fine. You're the only casualty."

She finally shifted, biting down on a groan. "What happened?"

"You my dear Doctor, decided to play human shield." His voice lowered to a raspy almost-whisper. She felt his arms around her tense.

"I don't... remember... I don't understand..." In the dim light, she could see anguish on his face.

"You took a disruptor blast meant for me." The words were practically torn from him.

She did not remember, precisely. What she did remember, with overwhelming clarity, was the sheer terror of thinking he was going to die. The penny dropped, and as if watching a holo-movie, she saw the terrorists pull out disruptors and before anyone could react, vaporize the Ambassador and Governor. The Captain had instinctively moved to act, and one of the terrorists had turned his weapon. Beverly could not remember what she did, but did recall the breathless grief that welled up in her...  
><em><br>This could not happen. Not with things between them so... unfinished... unfulfilled. And it was all her fault. He had told her how he felt, and she had walked away from him. "Maybe we should be afraid..." How foolish, selfish, ridiculous...  
><em>  
>Startling Jean-Luc, she shifted in his arms to draw herself up, her lips finding his jaw, then resting her head in the crook of his neck. She could not stop the tears welling over.<p>

"Shh, shh..." again, the gentle, soft sounds. She felt his lips on her forehead, brushing her temple. His thumb wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry..." Her voice broke. "I don't know why..." Her crying overcame her.

He continued to speak low, soothing words, "It's all right. We're all right." One hand held the back of her head, keeping her tucked above his shoulder; the other stroked her hair, her back.

The storm passed. She raised a hand, embarrassed, to wipe her nose. "I'm sorry." She said, without moving out of his arms. "I just remembered, the Ambassador... the Governor... and they were going to shoot you..." A shudder wracked down her spine.

His grip tightened reassuringly. His hand stopped it's movement, resting at the small of her back. "You took years off my life, Beverly." There was a hint of censure in his voice, but more tenderness.

"I couldn't let them... " her words trailed off. Her head hurt, her body ached, but none of it mattered when she compared it to what might have been.

His stillness broke through her distraction. She felt the tension thrumming through him. "What aren't you telling me?" She pushed back, away from him slightly, her muscles and head screaming in protest.

In the darkness, she felt his gaze probing her features. His hand coaxed her head back against him. "Nothing... nothing."

The darkness and their apparent escape from death gave her courage. "Don't lie to me," she whispered. "You've never lied to me."

She felt him hold his breath, then take a mouthful of air before he spoke.

She was right, he had not lied to her. He had always trusted her with the truth. All the truth except the _one_... "Do you really think I could have lived with it? Do you think I could have stood your giving your life to save mine?" His normally smooth baritone was rough.

Her reply was enough to startle him out of his fugue. "Welcome to my life, Jean-Luc."

It took her a moment to be able to continue. Her voice was soft, wistful, the tears pressing in. "Now you know what I meant."

For a moment he was confused. "What you meant?"

"That we should be afraid."

Silence wrapped around them. Her neck hurt now. The ache in her head was no longer throbbing, but had dispersed into a menacing sort of pressure from within, pushing its way out. The soreness in her muscles settled like the flu. She was tired now. She wanted to rest, in his arms, but she was afraid she had ruined everything all over again.

She closed her eyes.

It had taken them so long to find their way back to the deep, abiding friendship they had known before KesPrytt. She was never satisfied with it, never truly happy with it. If her stomach fluttered when she caught him looking at her... if she went weak in the knees when he escorted her with a hand on her back... she was just a hopeless old widow. She wasn't ready to risk her heart.

She felt like he had invaded her thoughts when he spoke, "You risked your life, but you won't risk your heart?" A long silence, then, "if you already hadn't given me your heart, you wouldn't have been willing to give your life."

The words were soft, so soft. There was no brashness, not even certainty. He was working it out for himself as he spoke it.

The reality of them crashed in on her. She did not remember her actions, only had his words that she had put herself in the line of fire for him... but she remembered the terror, the grief, the desperation... The agony of seeing his impending death, and the simplicity of a decision to act that was no decision at all...

Tears fell again, but this was not grief she felt now. She could not find words for her turbulent thoughts and emotions. She turned her face again, her lips finding his jaw, her hand lifted to turn his face toward her.

They found each other, there in the darkness, finally.

His first kiss was tentative, careful... Then the image of her throwing herself onto him, pushing him out of the way of the beam, taking the shot herself... The feel of her lifeless body in his arms before he ascertained she was just stunned... those moments crashed through him, shattering the control he prided himself on.

Beverly was lost in him. The pain was pushed back, unable to withstand the emotions and senses he enticed. The transition from gentle wonder to ownership was seamless. There was no awkwardness, no clumsy fumbling; just his mouth, on hers, his hands in her hair, on her back...

A small whimper escaped her when the need to breathe overcame the passion. He pulled away from her lips, but only to let his lips trace her cheekbone, then dip to find That Place behind her ear.

Her hands held onto him for dear life. Her fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his head, grasped the back of his neck, as if to keep him from leaving her.

He slowed his movements, hands soothing now rather than inciting. It took him two tries to find his voice. "As much as I would like to further explore... these possibilities... " she could hear the smile in his voice, "This is not the place, nor the time, and you are not in any condition..." Concern filled him again. He knew her pain had to be almost overwhelming.

She tried to slow her breathing. He was right, of course, and she hated it. She hurt. And they were in a cave, in the dark. "We WILL finish this, Captain..." She meant her voice to be commanding, instead it was breathy, needy...

"Count on it, Doctor." She felt the slightest rumble of a chuckle in his chest. God, how she loved him. Enough to die for him, to be sure, so why not enough to _love_him...

"Deanna and Will should be back soon. We'll rotate watch shifts until the transporter window opens again..." She heard his words through the gauzy film of fatigue.

Abruptly she tightened her hold on him, fighting the pain, fighting sleep, "Don't let go of me..."

"I've no intention of it Beverly." And while his arms encircled her, she slept.


	2. Chapter 2

(Author's Note: Although I *personally* feel ch. 1 stands alone, I was harassed into continuing... :-P *I* don't feel the rest is as strong as the first ch., but here it is, FWIW.)

=/\=

Voices woke her the next time. Deanna's soft accented words bringing her to consciousness. She did not mean to, but a groan escaped as reality-pain- intruded on the warm, quiet place she had been resting.

The arms tightening around her told her she was still ensconced in his embrace. She almost winced when Deanna crouched nearby.

"Hey, how are you?" She felt delicate small fingers brushing the hair off her face, testing the temperature of her brow.

"Like I've been shot out a photon torpedo tube." Beverly mumbled.

"Close." rumbled beneath her.

Carefully she opened her eyes, it was still dark. Will held a hand-lamp, but had it carefully aimed away from her, the light from it muted. Deanna knelt in front of Jean-Luc. Her dress uniform was dirty and torn. Some of her hair had escaped it's braid and hung around her face. She looked tired and worried.

"I'm OK, Dea." Beverly tried to shield the agony in her head from her friend. It was not difficult to concentrate instead on Jean-Luc. His strength and determination surrounded her. She saw the slightest of flicker cross Deanna's expression, then a slim, perfectly shaped eyebrow rose slightly.

"Mmm..." Deanna agreed. "You are, aren't you?" Her lip twitched, almost lifting into a smile. She reached a hand up behind her blindly, rewarded with Will Riker's grasp helping her to stand.

Beverly watched the interaction between the two. Something had changed there as well. They stood close. Will's hand stayed on her lower back. Deanna leaned toward him, touching at hip and elbow.

Will looked as disheveled as Deanna. A bruise darkened his jawline, showing above his beard. Beverly wished for her med-kit to help him.

"About thirty minutes until we'll clear the weather shield distortion and the Enterprise can lock on to us." Will said, addressing the Captain. "We'll have to move out of the rock, but only a few meters."

"Any sign of trouble out there, Number One?" Beverly felt tension rise in his muscles beneath her.

"So far the settlers seem to be correct, it doesn't appear we were followed here."

She felt Jean-Luc nod. She watched as Will and Deanna dropped to the floor opposite them. Will's arm settled around Deanna, and she rested against him.

Pain still radiated from inside her skull. Just that bit of concentration left her exhausted and achey. The back of her neck burned, but a shiver ran over her. Jean-Luc pulled at something and she was faintly warmer. He'd taken off his tunic and wrapped it around her. His turtleneck was soft under her cheek.

The Captain spoke to the First Officer again. But his tone was not urgent, and Beverly did not waste the effort to try to pay attention to the conversation. She felt his hand come to rest on her shoulder, thumb absently rubbing a small back and forth path. She wanted his hand on her throbbing temple to soothe the fever that felt like it was cooking her brain, but she could not figure out how to move or speak to let him know that.

She could barely discern Deanna's expression across the small cavern, but saw concern. She felt the slight touch of Deanna's presence in her mind. She knew the empath was just trying to ascertain her condition, and did not resent the intrusion the way she normally would. She tried to stop fighting the pain again, to stop pushing up against it so hard. Drifting with it, she tried to center herself on the gratitude she felt.

They were safe. He was safe. They would be home soon...

She must have fallen asleep again, because the beam out time had arrived. Jean-Luc spoke her name softly. "It's time to get you some help."

She took a breath. She had a feeling this was going to hurt. "Are you ready?" He asked. In the spill of light from Will's lamp she could see regret on his face. Yes, this was going to hurt. She fisted her hand in the front of his shirt and nodded.

"All right then, just let me..."

Too much movement, too much... She concentrated on not letting go of him. Hands helped, Deanna's, Will's. Then they were standing, but everything around her was spinning. A cold sweat broke out all over her, her jaw clenched and she felt the saliva building in the back of her mouth.

He knew though. At some point he must have taken this bad a stun, because he knew. He just stood, steadying her, keeping her upright. Her forehead dropped to his shoulder. He rubbed her back, below her shoulder blades. "Try to breathe..." his voice was gentle, she tried to concentrate on his warm breath by her ear. She felt his dress jacket being draped over her again. The warmth was welcome, but the weight of the collar inspired a dull agony... His thighs pressed against hers, taking her weight, lending his support. They were touching from knees to chest.

"Just a few feet." Deanna encouraged. "We're almost home now."

But it was too much. The burning, driving ache in the back of her neck, the waves of nausea, the disorienting pressure pushing to get out of her skull. Fear had her clutching at him as she felt herself slipping away.

"Jean-Luc?" She thought she spoke. The pain encompassed her, opening up darkness like a vortex around her. Just at the edge, before she fell into it, she imagined she felt a strong arm catch her under her knees, saw the darkness break into millions of sparkles of blue...

=^=  
>She was in the Captain's private room in Sickbay. Her injury was minor, though painful. She had taken the disruptor bolt to the back of the neck, at the base of her skull. The direct hit to her central nervous system made it that much more, well, disruptive. Analgesics and muscle relaxants delivered immediate relief once they were able to beam up. The skin and underlying muscle had been burned, but was easily repaired.<p>

He hadn't left her side.

She had woken gently this time. Like testing for a loose tooth, she mentally probed her head, her neck, her limbs... A lax sort of fatigue encompassed her, but her brain no longer felt like it needed to explode through her skull. Her right hand was immobilised... in warm, strong, familiar hands.

She smiled first. Her hand tightened in his.

"Welcome back." The exhausted, ragged tone in his voice had her opening her eyes.

In the dimmed lights, she could still see the worry and concern on his face. Hazel eyes she thought she might never see again gazed at her. The edge of his mouth lifted, and his eyes crinkled slightly as he attempted to smile for her.

"You need sleep." Her voice was weaker than she expected it to be. She wondered how long she'd been out.

His hands tightened around hers. With a sigh, he lowered his forehead to their joined hands. "I couldn't."

She reached over with her other hand, joyous in the freedom to touch him. She let herself stroke the top of his head, her hand sliding down to rest at the side of his face. He had uncharacteristic stubble testament to his vigil. He still wore his dress turtleneck.

Dr. Selar had unobtrusively given them a few moments even though the monitors had notified her of her patient's rise to consciousness. Now she made a point of a noisy entrance. Jean-Luc sat up, but did not let go their hands.

Selar raised the back of the bio-bed, ran the tricorder over her boss, and checked the readouts on the screens above the bed.

"Well?" Beverly waited impatiently.

"You have recovered well. I would like to do a regeneration treatment for your neck and head, just to offset the nerve damage from so intense a bolt. It is not the best place to take a disruptor beam." Selar commented dryly.

Beverly had a smart retort on the tip of her tongue, but she saw Jean-Luc blanch at the comment. Despite the moment of clarity they had on the planet, this was not going to be easy. Even the muted light of sickbay was brighter than the darkness that had sheltered their stolen moment of revelation.

She would not let his guilt come between them, not now, not when she finally had found courage.

Selar went about setting up the regeneration unit. The Captain remained silent. His face remained impassive, his Captain's mask firmly in place. But as Beverly gazed into his eyes, she saw a storm of emotion. Her stomach clenched at the raw desire simmering there. Her heart seemed to stumble for a minute.

Dr. Selar glanced up at the biobed monitors, pursed her lips to speak, then glanced at the Captain and her patient-both oblivious to her presence. The stoic Vulcan felt a moment of pleasure at the thought of these two finally acknowledging their bond. She turned on the soft blue regenerator beam.

"Captain..." Beverly found her voice unsteady. A blush began to rise from her chest. She always hated her fair features, her inability to hide such things. "I'm sure you have duties to attend to... " She did not *want* him to leave, but she needed time to find her composure. And, she admitted to herself, to find out what HAPPENED down there.

"No, I... " His brisk command tone broke, lowered to a whisper that sent a delightful shudder right to the tips of her toes, "Nothing is more important than... this. You."

Something just beneath her diaphragm clenched. She did not want to have this conversation in Sickbay. Not with witnesses, not with her vulnerability sparking his guilt.

"I'm fine." She said softly, reaching for his face again. Not caring that Selar was there. "Go. For now." She paused. "The sooner I get this over with the sooner I get out of this joint." She knew he could not refute that desire, not with his track record.

"Just don't forget, Doctor," he said, finally, his eyes suspiciously shining, "we have a conversation to continue."

Her stomach fluttered and her heartbeat picked up. Alyssa poked her head into the room at the cardiac monitor reading-but seeing the Captain leaning forward towards her Boss's face, she backed out before anyone saw her. Selar also exited the private room.

Apparently she had found the courage to risk her life for his. She still didn't have a complete picture of what happened down on the planet, but she'd remedy that soon enough.

She nodded. "Yes, we do."

"Dinner, tonight then?" The hope on his face melted her fears away.

"1830 sound right?" She wondered what she would do until then, other than go mad...

"1830." He just sat there, looking at her. He wanted to touch her face, but did not know if that would disturb the regeneration beams.

She began to grow embarrassed under his scrutiny. "Go... " she said softly, so not as to hurt his feelings. "Go do your Captain thing so we can have dinner later."

Another long moment of just looking at her, the depths of emotion in his hazel eyes threatening to drown her, and he complied. He raised her hand to his lips, and in a familiar gesture, kissed the back of it. Then astonishing her, he turned her hand and placed a kiss in her palm. Curling her fingers, he left her.

She felt the tingle all the way up her arm, and down into her womb. It was going to be a LONG time until 1830.


	3. Chapter 3

Not long after the Captain left, the person she next wanted to see came looking after her.

"Will!"

For some reason he felt like he was being pounced on. "Beverly..." He said cautiously, an eyebrow raised.

"Will, I need you to tell me what happened down there. I don't remember a thing other than the Ambassador and the Governor..." That wasn't entirely true, she remembered snatches of what happened next, but she wanted to be prepared before she faced the Captain again.

Will's eyes warmed. Beverly was more than a peer, more than a fellow Command Officer; they had been through so much over the years... They had quite literally saved each others' lives.

Being in StarFleet, being Officers, meant trusting your team implicitly. Few other people understood what it meant to get up each morning and put your life on the line as the normal course of 'work.' On a starship, even your off-duty hours depended on the competency and skill of your crew-things could go wrong in a heartbeat and all that stood between you and the cold vacuum of space was the fragile shell of the Enterprise.

But with Beverly and Will, it was different. More. The respect and trust were unfailing. Perhaps the closest comparison of their relationship was the deep, abiding love and affection between a brother and a sister. At times, who exactly was the 'big' brother or 'big' sister roles reversed.

For some reason Will flashed to the moment when Beverly refused to be beamed up from Rutia. He had remarked to the Captain, "I don't want to be in the transporter room when she arrives... "

He had been terrified earlier on Orellian 3 when he saw her launch herself in front of the Captain-not that he would not have done it himself, had he been in proximity-but when the blast from the disruptor caught her, and she collapsed... it was a very bad moment for William Thomas Riker.

"You saved the Captain." He said with his rakish grin. "You'll probably end up with a commendation." The brief flash of concern in his eyes belied his smile.

"I didn't *save* him, Will, it was set on stun." She rubbed at the back of her neck absently.

"But who knows what they would have done if they had stunned him." Will's features fell. "What you did was one of the most brave, and foolish things I've seen in a long time, Beverly Crusher."

She felt the flush of embarrassment rise up her neck. She was never one to accept praise well. "Will, seriously. The last thing I remember was the anniversary ceremony wrapping up, and then suddenly everything fell apart... what happened?"

He raised his eyebrow at her. He knew from the intensity in her voice there was more to this. He was not often taken for a fool. He had witnessed almost every moment of his Captain's reaction on the planet. Those two never managed to see what everyone else saw... if they did, they never managed to overcome whatever it was that kept them so subtly apart.

Life was so short, so fragile. He knew that the out-of-the-blue attack on what was supposed to be a happy celebratory appearance had knocked some sense into him. Seeing Beverly fall in the line of fire, seeing his Captain's stark grief and terror for her, had reminded him of how precarious this life was. He had grabbed on to Deanna and not let go until they were aboard ship. Even now, he wished he were beside her, just to hold her while she slept. He would be, soon, after checking on his friend.

He sighed, the weight of sorrow on his shoulders. Despite his crew's safe escape, there had been a loss of life and peace on the planet below. They had been there as Federation representatives for Orellian's tenth anniversary of colonization.

"They were suicide terrorists." He began, his brow furrowing. "Apparently the Orellians were too proud to report their activity to the Federation. We had no idea there was a growing faction resorting to violence. We didn't have time to gather history of the conflict, but it is a small, obviously effective cabal of extremists."

"They didn't think we needed to know that... " Beverly sighed. The Enterprise could have provided security... could have provided mediation for that matter. Instead lives had been lost. "How many..."

"Seven." Will answered. Three from the Settlement's Governing body, three of the terrorists, and one bystander. There were some injuries from the crowd, but nothing the Settlement could not treat."

Beverly sat, silently for a minute. The blue regen lights pulsed from light cyan to dark sapphire. Once again, Will realized how close they had come to losing her.

"So," She said, squaring her shoulders slightly in the blue sickbay pajamas. "What exactly did *I* do?" A small grin of self-deprecation graced her features.

"It happened so fast..." Will nodded. "One minute everyone was applauding and shaking hands, and the next there was disruptor fire. The Governor and Ambassador never had a chance. The Captain began to move to protect the Head of Council. By this point their Police had begun to act, but it was just seconds... "

His sigh spoke as much as his words. "I was trying to get some help from the Enterprise, Deanna and I had ducked behind the proscenium for cover. The next second I looked out, and you were in front of the Captain-facing him and pushing him back and down." His gaze drifted away from hers, his eyes darkening. "Somehow you got him out of the line of fire, but I saw the disruptor bolt hit you..."

"I didn't know they had changed the setting. Perhaps they didn't want the death of a Federation Starship Captain... I don't know. But it was some very bad moments until I could get to you and Jean-Luc. I was sure you were dead."

He met her gaze again, and the grief in his eyes caused her to tear up. She reached for his hand. He took hers, and grasped it tightly.

"Anyway," He had to clear his throat. "The Captain said he was ok, and that he would see to you, and told us to try to figure out what was going on. It was chaos for a few minutes. There were nowhere near enough Police for that kind of situation. Deanna and I got in a bit of a scuffle with one of the terrorists, managed to disarm him and detain him. By this point it occurred to me that the change in tactics from kill to stun could indicate that either the Captain or all of us could be targets for kidnapping. We had no idea who we could trust-remember no one thought it relevant to TELL us about any of this... " Another sigh, this one exasperated. "The Captain and I decided removing ourselves from the problem was the best choice given the situation."

"He wouldn't let me carry you, you know." Will smiled at this, and it reached his eyes this time. Beverly felt that intense tightening of her gut again. "We knew from our briefing the terrain surrounding the Settlement had caves which would be defensible. They'd used the same area when they first established the settlement for storage and emergency shelter... it made sense to head there. So much for our half-day of shore leave..."

Beverly smiled at that. The Senior Command Crew had not been able to partake of leave at Starbase 73 when the rest of the crew had been able to rotate through at least a couple of days each. Deanna had suggested the time between transporter windows would be a nice break for them. They had planned to just enjoy the local hospitality.

"As you know," Will finished, "The weather shield irregularities precluded a shuttle just as much as the transporter. The moment a window opened, we beamed back up."

He watched the Doctor, who seemed lost in thought. He could not contain his curiosity. "What were you thinking Beverly?" His voice was soft, non-critical.

She just shrugged, lifting one shoulder, returning her gaze to his. She nodded, "I don't know. I didn't... think... I guess, I just reacted." She wasn't being entirely truthful with him...

_This could not happen. Not with things between them so... unfinished... unfulfilled. And it was all her fault. He had told her how he felt, and she had walked away from him...  
><em>  
>True, she had not thought of the *consequences,* but in the eternity between the seconds when Jean-Luc moved to act, and the disruptor was pointed at him, she had thought; perhaps more clearly than she had thought in a long time.<p>

"Well, I for one am very grateful you are OK." Their hands were still joined. Beverly treasured the strength and humor of her friend.

She turned on her Doctor persona, ignoring the fact that she sat on a biobed in patient attire, "You, Commander, should be resting. If Selar has not recommended it, I will."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "No need to make it an order, Doctor. I just wanted to check in on you before I did. I'm glad you're OK Beverly."

With a final squeeze of her hand, he departed. "Tell Deanna not to bother... I will fill her in tomorrow." She shot at his back. He turned to look at her over his shoulder, the eyebrow raised in conspiracy this time.

"Yes, Ma'am." He nodded with a pleased smirk.

Beverly knew he had observed perhaps more than even she had. _'He wouldn't let me carry you, you know...'_ Will was an astute study of his Captain-what made him such an unsurpassed First Officer. She had a feeling Will had more clarity on the whole situation than either Beverly or Jean-Luc.


	4. Chapter 4

The First Officer of the Federation starship Enterprise wearily returned to his quarters. He was relieved the ship's Chief Medical Officer, his friend, would recover fully. He was hopeful, based on his observations, that she would even find some benefit to her act of selflessness.

It was with a gentle smile at this thought that Will Riker entered his quarters. He planned to shower and contact the ship's Counselor to see if she would accept his company.

As was often the case, Deanna Troi was way ahead of him. When he entered his bedroom, he found the lights already on, but dimmed, and a small body with an abundance of dark, curly hair ensconced in his bed.

A gentle peace settled in him. Quietly he showered, and pulling on pajama bottoms, slipped under the covers next to the remarkable woman.

"Hi." She said softly, adjusting herself to spoon against him as he drew her near.

"Hi." His voice was husky with sleep and need.

"How's Beverly?" She reached for his arm and grasped it around her waist.

"Good." He found she wore no pajamas. He breathed in her scent, her essence. "She seems good."

Deanna nodded in satisfaction, not opening her eyes. "Something happened between them before we returned to the cave."

"It better have." Will splayed his hand against her abdomen, soothing himself with the feel of her.

"Did you see him?" Deanna's voice was drifting toward sleep again, but she was too entranced with the thought of her best friend and her Captain to let this go.

"Oh, yeah." His lips found the back of her neck, that place between her shoulder and throat. But it wasn't foreplay, it was reassurance. "I don't think he let her go until she kicked him out of sickbay."

"Hmmm." Deanna let her thoughts drift, she could always 'find' Beverly and Jean-Luc amid the ship's crew. Sometimes all she found were walls, but right now when she reached out to her best friend she found a bubbly anticipation tempered with exhaustion and trepidation... From the Captain she got a sense of quiet peace and strength. They would be fine.

"I'm glad you are here." Will whispered against her neck, sliding into sleep himself.

She smiled and let herself relax in the arms of comfort and strength. She only hoped the Captain and the Doctor would find the same before the ship's night was over.

=/\=

Doctor Beverly Crusher had released herself from Sickbay-albeit with acting-CMO Doctor Selar's permision-and returned to her quarters. A very long, hot bath with eucalyptus, lavender and mint soothed her sore muscles and quieted her mind.

She uncharacteristically dithered with her wardrobe choice-she didn't want to appear too... practiced... and yet she hoped things would move forward. She wrinkled her nose at the more formal choices. She had worn formal after KesPrytt and that had ended in disaster. She settled on a soft knit sweater in a deep jade. It fell below her hips, with a deep, wide collar that tended to slide off one shoulder or the other. Her staple black leggings and flats completed the casual outfit. Just a dab of perfume on each pulse-point, then rubbed behind each ear.

She was too tired to deal with hair and makeup. She left her hair long, with it's natural curl.

It was only just 1645 and she found herself at loose ends. She sat at her computer. To her surprise, she saw that the Captain had filed his report already. She called it up.

_Captain's Log, Supplemental._She could hear his voice in her head as she read the words he had dictated.

_First Officer Cmdr. Will Riker, Ship's Counselor Cmdr. Deanna Troi, and Chief Medical Officer Cmdr. Beverly Crusher accompanied myself to Orellian 3 as Federation Representatives to the Colony's Tenth Anniversary Observance...  
><em>  
>She skimmed forward, his concise, official words glossing over the details she knew. Then she came to it:<p>

_The detail was uneventful through completion of the ceremony, at which time the Government representatives came under attack from unknown suspects. To my right, on the raised dais of the stage, Governor Torel and Ambassador Valar were vaporized. At this point I moved toward the Head of Council. I did not see that one of the attackers had taken aim at me._

Commander Riker and Commander Troi had taken cover behind the stage proscenium. Doctor Crusher perceived the threat to me and moved herself between the shooter and myself. She was able to push me down to the floor, out of the line of fire, sustaining a direct blow to the back of the skull and neck. (see supplemental reports, pending) She was rendered profoundly unconscious. I dragged her to cover and remained with her, ordering my First Officer to ascertain the circumstances of the attack if possible.

Such simple words. A shudder ran through her. She read ahead as he described things much as Will had. She came to the end of the report:

_We retreated to the caves at the perimeter of the settlement until such time as the Enterprise could establish transporter signal._

At the time of this report, Doctor Crusher is recovering satisfactorily in Sickbay. She suffered severe stun nerve damage, and second degree burns to the cervical area. A full recovery is expected. Commanders Riker and Troi received minor bruises and scrapes, they were seen in sickbay and released.

That was it.

Of course that was it. What did she expect, that he would include the hours of darkness and pain? That he carried her, held her and kept her sane?

Butterflies congregated in the general vicinity of the Doctor's stomach as she thought of the tenderness and care the Captain had shown her. Despite the pain of the disruptor stun, she had found comfort and solace.

It had been there all along, she realized. But her flawed logic had her believing somehow it would be worse to lose him if they were lovers... She remembered the pain of losing Jack, but when she was honest with herself, it was nothing compared with the pain she felt when she saw the disruptor aimed at Jean-Luc.

She had loved Jack. She had loved him with all of her being; but that being was so very young. In the two decades since then she had grown in to so much more. Her love for Jack had been part lust, part fulfilling expectations, and part stardust in her eyes. He had swept her off her feet with his ebullience and humour. He had set her on a pedestal and treated her like a queen.

Jean-Luc... Jean-Luc was a different story. The lust was there, for sure. In case of fact, it always had been, even when there was Jack. A small, guilty part of her always wondered what would have happened if she had met Jean-Luc before Jack... but then, she wouldn't be who she was now.

Jean-Luc had seen her at her best and at her worst. He'd been by her side when she found cures for population decimating plagues, and when she had failed to find a cure. He had rejoiced with her when she cheated death in saving a crewman, and mourned with her when death had called her bluff. He had backed her up when all she had was a hunch, and he had accepted her back when she disobeyed direct orders.

That first year aboard the Enterprise had been like a never ending rollercoaster ride. There were times she thought he might still be attracted to her, times she was ready to throw caution to the wind and chase him; times she thought he hated her, times she knew he thought she blamed him for Jack.

The year away, at Starfleet Medical had proven to her there was more than friendship there. She had missed him as much as she missed her son. But she had also dreamed of him, fantasized about him, found herself distracted with thoughts of him.

When she came back, he was reserved again for a time... it was just over three months after her return when she had refused his order to beam up from Rutia and had been taken hostage. She had some time on her own to contemplate her fate, and then the Ansata had abducted the Captain.

Things changed after that. She had seen the depth of his fear for her safety. She had been terrified when she saw he was a hostage too, yet comforted by his presence. She saw how deeply he cared for her son. She believed she saw how he cared for her. She had been in the process of telling him how she felt about him when Will and Worf had stormed the Ansata stronghold and rescued them.

There had been times after that... times when she thought he would cross the line, breach the wall between them. Other times when she tried. Something always seemed to get in the way...

Then, after KesPrytt... she stood up with a disgusted sigh. It seemed as if HE could forgive her... she just had to figure out how to forgive herself. This was a new chance, a new beginning. Fate had shown her what might have been-the clarity of seeing him targeted for death-and had granted her one more opportunity. As to why it felt harder and more terrifying now than it had to throw herself into the line of fire... there was no rational explanation for that.

It had just seemed SIMPLE in his arms, in the darkness. His logic that giving her life could not have been such an easy choice if she already had not given her heart-it sounded so easy to believe. Why was she afraid NOW?

But she had been a coward one too many times. She had stood by him, sewn him back together, literally brought him back piece by piece after the Borg... she had been strong for him, but she had never been strong for her.

The memory of the comfort of his arms around her, his lips on hers, his touch on her hair... his voice, breaking... flooded her being with hope. She did not look at the time when she burst out of her quarters, heading for his; did not care if she was early, she just knew that this time she would not be too late.

When the doors to his quarters swished open before she rang the announcer, it brought her pause; but only for a moment. A feeling of warmth started curling low in her belly when she realized he must have programmed the computer to allow her access.

Nerves had her slowing as she entered his quarters. The table was set simply, a dark green linen cloth, creamy white china in two place settings. For a moment, she didn't see him, then when she quieted the butterflies, detected his presence...

He was sound asleep, on the couch. She smiled, greedily taking in his form. Of course he should be exhausted. None of the others had slept since... yesterday morning was it now? When they left for the detail planetside. Of course, _she_had slept, or, more accurately, lost consciousness, several times, but she was weary beyond words. She imagined the Captain had fought his fatigue until it overcame even his prodigious willpower.

He always looked younger in sleep; more approachable. Her nose told her he had showered recently. He smelled of soap and his shaving lather and just a hint of cologne. He was dressed in a simple collarless, button-up white shirt and black pants.

Black pants she knew hugged him deliciously in all the right places. She was a die hard sucker for a man in uniform, but she found that *this* man intrigued her out of uniform as well.

He was stretched out on the end of the couch, with his feet propped on the matching stool. His hands rested lightly crossed on his stomach, his head lolled back against the top of the cushion. She suspected he sat down for a moment and never knew what hit him.

There was something vaguely vulnerable about his position, his features. She was loathe to wake him. But the curling warmth spreading through her seemed to have a mischievous life of it's own, inspiring her.

Softly, so as not to disturb him, she settled next to him. Curling her feet up sideways beside her, she gently nestled herself so her head could rest on his shoulder. She thought she woke him when he moved, but he brought his arm around her, capturing her against his side, and slept on.

_This_was simple. This was right. All her fears melted away as she contemplated the man next to her. The man she had known and loved for more than half her life.

There were so many things to distract them, to lend complications. Protocol and gossip and 'duty.' But this, this was simple. The two of them fit like two halves to a whole. He completed her. His smile, when it reached his eyes... the flash of heat and desire she sometimes caught when he thought she wasn't looking... his steadfast belief in the good of people, of the innate possibilities in the Universe.

He was the only one who dared contradict her, and when he did, often he challenged her beliefs, leading her to new levels of understanding. He was the only one who saw through her 'Doctor' persona and understood how deeply she felt each loss. But she had known these things for years. There was never any doubt their love was deep and sincere.

It was what came next she had never allowed herself. She was safe, as he slept. She lightly placed her palm on his chest. Through the fine weave of his shirt, she felt the heat of his skin, the pulse of his heart. She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. The butterflies in her stomach were gone now, desire building with a syrupy heat in their place.

She could have this. It was hers for the taking. A single tear escaped.

Her eyes opened when his other hand came up to cover hers on his chest. His eyes were still closed, but a beatific smile lit his face. He made no more movement other than his fingers enclosing hers, his thumb softly rubbing the inside of her wrist.

A shiver traced from her wrist directly to her womb.

"You're early." He opened his eyes, his smile crinkling them in the corners.

"Sorry," she relplied, more breathlessly than she planned.

"Don't be." He shifted just slightly, adjusting her next to him, allowing his lips to find her temple. "This is lovely."

"Mmmm..." She hummed, not trusting herself to speak, to think. Her eyes closed, cherishing the warmth of their contact.

"Do you want to eat?" He said after a time, his lips brushing the edge of her hairline, causing a delightful shiver.

"Would that require moving?" Her eyebrow raised, but her eyes remained shut. It was glorious to bask in the sensations surrounding her.

"Probably," the reply was dry, making her smile.

"Then I don't think I'm hungry just now. I don't want to move."

"Not even a little bit?" He was stirring now, slowly testing his way down the side of her face, finding the spot at the edge of her jaw that melted her resolve.

"Maybe a little..." She turned to him, lips meeting. This was how it should be. How it could be. His mouth was experienced, gently demanding. She wasn't exactly a novice, but oh, how she needed his confidence, his leadership.

The passion rose, slowly at first as the two tested and tasted and tried... but it had been too long, both of them had fought and denied each other forever. In a tangle of hands and mouths they feverishly found each other. He was confident when she was shy. She was sure when he gave her one last chivalrous chance to stop...

He had never quite pictured it this way, he always thought there would be flowers and candles and appropriate music their first time... but that had not worked after KesPrytt, and he wasn't one to repeat failures.

This was so much more simple. Elemental. She inspired him and he completed her.

=^=  
>They slept for a time, meshed together on the couch. She was draped over him like an afghan, her face tucked into the nook between his chin and his shoulder. He had picked her sweater up from the floor and covered her back and bottom somewhat with it. Neither wanted to move.<p>

When his hands moved lazily to her lower back, and ran up the back of her thigh, she found the words she needed. Once she started, they tumbled over each other. How she had been so scared of losing him before, but then the reality of losing him on Orellian showed her just how foolish her fears had been... How sorry she was for hurting him.

He shushed her at that. The same repetitive short sibilance he had soothed her with when she woke on the planet. There was something about it, neither command nor obligation; It was instead assuasive, like comforting a fussy baby... she had never heard him use it before. It melted her heart.

"There's nothing to apologize for. You are here, now."

For just a moment, old fears bubbled up within her-here *now* but what about tomorrow? She could not stand to lose him... He felt her panic rising, pulled her to him, wrapping her in his embrace. It was worth it. Even if she should lose him, this was worth it. He completed her.

"Don't let go of me, Jean-Luc."

"I don't intend to, Beverly."


End file.
